


Chasing The Enemy

by thenewnationalanthem (moxielovesshipping)



Series: Senses [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Childhood Trauma, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Friendship/Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Letters, M/M, Non-Consensual Electroconvulsive Therapy, Poetry, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 21:44:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11216859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moxielovesshipping/pseuds/thenewnationalanthem
Summary: He wonders who Mark is.





	Chasing The Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, notes.
> 
> -these are notes from Mark to Jack
> 
> -Mark is already dead, but these are notes he left for Jack explaining what happened to him
> 
> -Mark does not feel like his name belongs to him anymore, so when he refers to "him" as Mark, he's talking about who he was before
> 
> -The institution is an asylum for children who show high risk of violence
> 
> -there is no dialogue in this story.
> 
> This is a bit different than what i usually write, but it's reminiscent of Pages, I hope you enjoy.

_It was really odd, being outside for the first time. It was like a new life for me, because I'd only ever seen the confines of wooden doors and white walls. It was almost unbearable sometimes, but it gets comfortable with consequences. The air smelled like grass and life instead of alcohol and death. I didn't hate The Institution. Not a bit but, it was a place I could have lived without._

 

_It could be argued that I couldn't._

 

_I never expected this._

 

_It had gotten pretty bad, the depression, but The Institution wasn't a place for me to get better. It was a place for me to get worse so they could cure me altogether. They could pick my brain apart synapse by synapse and rewire me. That way, I could smile again._

 

_I could be normal again. I don't know if I ever was._

 

_I'm not sure why I ran away. I guess I thought there was something for me to go after. Something I was chasing. Something out there past the white walls of The Institution._

 

_It could be argued that I found it._

 

_I never really did._

 

_It was almost like the best years of my life were burned away with the shocks, I don't_ _remember_ _it at all._

 

_I can think about my sister watching me from some window while they held me down, but the bits and pieces in the middle are lost on me._

 

_I didn't really understand at first all the details of The Institution until I escaped it._

 

_Until I was out into the world of cigarette smoke and civil violence that I knew what they were trying to do._

 

_I was a statistic, a number in their data set that told them I was high risk._

 

_I'm not violent, by any means. But I could have been._

 

_Could have been, being the basis of their data._

 

_So they shocked me, and shocked me, and shocked me again, but after awhile, I never felt it._

 

_I never felt anything._

 

_Even as the acid rain fell from the sky and burned my skin, even as the hot sun scorched my irises, and even as the broken glass cut the soles of my feet, I never felt anything._

 

_I was broken, bruised, and scarred beyond recognition, but only I could see it._

 

_It could be argued that's what I was chasing._

 

_I never got to see it, but I'm sure if I looked in the mirror hard enough, I can see a glimmer of myself twinkling in the recesses of my mind._

 

_I never knew him well, but people talked of him fondly._

 

_You talk of him as if he were still here, built up and powerful, endlessly real._

 

_He's someone I'd only seen in fairytales, heard his name used as mine sometimes when they were being especially grateful._

 

_He was an enigma, like a celebrity crush, like that first flake of snow in the coming winter that's so small it's insignificant._

 

_You talked of him so much that, sometimes I wanted to talk to him too._

 

_But I never knew how to find him._

 

_So that's why I left you behind, I needed to see him in person._

 

_I wanted to tell him all about my life, and I wanted him to tell me about his._

 

_His childhood specifically, how he was raised, how he lived, breathed, played._

 

_His parents were great people, or so many have said to me._

 

_I'd never met them I don't think._

 

_He was almost like my enemy sometimes._

 

_A version of someone I knew from another time and place._

 

_Sometimes I had to wonder who he truly was._

 

_Who it really was that I was chasing._

 

_Maybe I was chasing myself._

 

_But I have no idea who that is._

 

_-Anonymous_


End file.
